


Into the West

by DaniWaggett



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 22:18:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18583705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniWaggett/pseuds/DaniWaggett
Summary: Frodo has decided it's time to leave for the Havens, he must say goodbye to his most beloved friend, Sam.It took me so long to write this because it was so sad, i apologise to the characters for putting them through what i did.





	Into the West

It is now the year 1421. Frodo has done his part to help the Shire get back to how it once was. Or, as close as it could become. He had rescued many hobbits and even got to see his Sam marry, the beautiful, Rosie Cotton. Their first child had been born, a beautiful girl, with golden blonde hair. They had named her Elanor. Time passed, such as it does, and it was suddenly coming up to Autumn again.  
“Bilbo’s birthday is soon,” thought Frodo to himself.  
He was sat at the writing desk, the same desk that Bilbo had once chronicled his own adventures, with the large red journal open in front of him. His part was almost finished. Finally.   
Sitting there, running his fingers through his messy, dark curls, he looked out the window. The trees wore oranges, golds and reds. The air was crisp, and the apples were plentiful, again. Familiar faces could be seen tending to fields in the distance, toiling away under a clear blue sky. If he didn’t know any better, it would seem like it was the same old Shire. That nothing bad had ever come their way, as though it had completely escaped the troubles from Sauron.  
“The time has come, I think,” Frodo whispered to himself. “I shall soon be going back to the elves.”  
Frodo looked around the room where he sat. So many memories were in this home. He had once shared this place with his uncle, and it felt much emptier since the old Hobbit left. The emptiness was alleviated a little as he was being visited every day by Sam and, every other day, by Merry and Pippin. They would come together in the main living room, the fire roaring, the pantry giving out endless supplies of food, and reminisce about their adventures. They had quickly found out that others didn’t want to discuss what had happened, but these four companions had needed to talk about it. To remember that it had happened, and, to remember that they had survived it.  
Again, he came to stare out the window. The plants in the garden waved and danced, although there was not much wind. Sam must be out there tending to the garden, as he always does.  
Frodo called him into the study and, as he waited for his companion, he wrote the last of his story on to the pages of the journal. He was waiting for the ink to dry as Sam walked in.  
“Mr. Frodo?” Sam enquired.  
Sam watched as Frodo closed the large red book and then turned to face him. He was still looking tired. Frodo had never been the same after Mordor, and especially after the run in with the wraith blade.  
“Sam. It is time for me to leave the Shire,” Frodo began gently.  
Sam’s heart dropped. He knew it would happen one day, but, did it have to be so soon? He just stood there, looking down at his friend. It took him a moment to be able to breath again.  
“I’d like you to join me on one last journey. I feel it’s finally time to return to Rivendell.” He sighed and turned to look back out of the window.  
“I’d go anywhere with you, Mr. Frodo.”  
Sam took a step closer to his oldest friend and rested a hand on the others shoulder.   
“How long will we be gone? Rosie won’t want me going too far or be gone for too long.”  
“Seven days, eight, at the very longest. Will you truly go with me? I can’t do this journey alone.”  
Sam nodded his head he knew he could not deny Frodo anything. 

Over the following days they poured over piles of papers and sorted out all of Frodo’s affairs.   
“Sam, this is for you. The deeds to Bag End.”  
The other hobbit sat amongst the papers and books and stared up with wide eyes.  
“Mr. Frodo, I – “  
“Don’t deny me this Sam. I know this place will be loved so much more with you and Rosie living here, raising the largest brood of children the Shire has ever seen. It feels right, it going to you.” He smiled tenderly.

When everything had been sorted, they began their last adventure. Frodo rode on his horse, Strider. The very same beast that had carried him from Minas Tirith. Sam was on his horse, Bill, a most beloved horse, who had started to become quite a rounded being now that his days of adventuring were over. The sun had started to shine through the clouds, the air had warmed up and it was beginning to become a splendid day for a journey. If only this wasn’t such a heart-wrenching one.  
They went on at a leisurely pace, recounting happy memories. Occasionally, Sam would point out an old spot they used to haunt when they were younger. When night finally began to fall, they camped and began their journey again at dawn.  
They spent the next day much like the one before, taking breaks every few hours for their next meal. That evening came with a blazing red sky streaked with pinks and golds. Frodo watched as it darkened into dusk, humming to himself, while Sam kept to himself, deep in thought, thinking about the past. Neither noticed the voices coming from the valley ahead at first. When the noise did finally reach the hobbits’ ears, they stilled the horses and listened intently. Sam’s heart pounded a little, he didn’t know if they were friends or foes.  
Sam soon breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a familiar glow of a special lantern coming closer. In this new light he could the elves silhouettes. Gildor was at the front, with Elrond and Galadriel behind. As always, they looked beautiful and ethereal.  
“Good evening to you, hobbits.” Elrond greeted with the slightest of bows.  
“Lord Elrond.” The two hobbits bowed in return.  
“It’s wonderful to see you all again,” said Frodo.  
Galadriel turned to Sam.  
“I’m pleased with how you used my gift; the Shire is looking beautiful. It will flourish and grow, and your harvests will be plentiful for generations to come.”  
“I…Thank you Lady Galadriel.”  
Sam’s cheeks had flushed a deep pink and he burrowed his head into his collar.  
A small grey figure, that had been hidden behind the tall figures, appeared and removed his hood. It was old Bilbo Baggins.  
“I have surpassed the Old Took in years now, my lad,” he croaked. “Are you joining our travels?”  
“Yes Uncle,” Frodo replied, looking over at Sam as he gasped at the sight of the wizened old man.  
Sam now truly understood where they were going. Not just back to Rivendell, but to The Havens. Frodo would never return to the Shire and he would never be able to be visited. He couldn’t hold it back this time, his heart broke. He knew there was no way he could go too. Not with Rosie and Elanor waiting at home.  
Tears welled in his eyes, no matter how much he tried to hide them.   
“I didn’t realise it was this final,” he sobbed.  
“My dear Sam, I can’t stay. I’m so tired and the Shire is now safe and mostly rebuilt. You’re my heir, and I know it will thrive under your care, and that of your descendants.”  
The group carried on riding, or walking in the case of the elves, Bilbo on the back of a small, young horse. Each step forward left another piece of Sam’s heart trampled on the floor behind them. Even when the elves sang, his heart did not lighten. All too soon they had passed through the White Duns and through the Far Downs. By went the towers and the sea rose to greet them on the horizon. At last, they had come to Mithlond.  
A tall grey, bearded figure moved to greet them. Cirdan the shipwright removed his hood and bowed to the travellers. Sam was still amazed to see people so tall. He felt as small as a child next to them. The shipwright led them on towards the large silver ships. By this shining vessel stood a man wrapped in a white robe with a large, floppy white hat covering his face.   
The figure stepped forward and lifted his head. The familiar wrinkled face looked upon them, Gandalf’s eyes crinkled with a smile that never quite reached to warm them with genuine happiness.   
Everyone was greeted with smiles and friendliness. Only Sam seemed truly sad, at least, he was the only one openly showing it. He knew that saying goodbye to Frodo would shatter his heart beyond repair. His friend. His family. He would never be fully complete again. Nothing will heal this pain. The journey back home would be the loneliest and most gut-wrenching journey of all time for him. Returning to Bag End will be the hardest. He would never see Frodo’s face again, hear his voice, or live under the same roof.  
Frodo was happy to see the wizard, those familiar blue eyes, set in folds, the smell of his pipe, it gave Frodo some comfort. The knowledge that the old man will be another companion on a difficult journey. He was leaving the largest part of his heart behind with Sam.   
He kept glancing over, the tears swimming in the cornflower blue eyes slicing at him. It hurt to know that he was the cause of the pain on the others face. 

People were starting to board the ship, the newest group waiting until the last minute to board, prolonging the goodbyes for the sake of the two hobbits. Fast approaching horses could be heard and everyone turned to the sounds. Elrond had a knowing smile on his lips. He didn’t need guess who it would be. These four were almost inseparable. Two more hobbits burst through onto the shore. Their horses covered in sweat, from riding non-stop for days, the two men dismounted before they had even come to a full stop. Their faces red, with exertion, anger and deep sadness.  
Merry and Pippin ran to their cousins.  
“You were going to leave without telling us?” Pippin yelled.  
“We rode for days straight to get to you,” Merry huffed.  
Frodo hugged his cousins in turn. They smiled, trying for their usual cheekiness, but sadness overpowered it all. Gandalf watched, as he always did with hobbits. Even to this day, after knowing them for so long, he was still so very fascinated by their kind.   
“Truly amazing creatures.” He thought to himself.  
“Rosie told us the day after you left, she thought we knew and had gone with you,” Pippin explained.  
“Almost gave us the slip, couldn’t allow that to happen. We went with you the first time and we would have done so again.”  
“Typical,” tutted Frodo.   
Gandalf turned to help Bilbo on to the gangplank of the ship giving the quartet the privacy to say goodbye. It was slow going as Bilbo’s legs could barely carry his diminishing weight.  
Frodo kissed each of his friends’ foreheads. He lingered longest with Sam. He was so torn. His aching body was forbidding him rest and peace, but he truly didn’t want to leave Sam’s side. If it wasn’t for Rosie and Elanor he knew he wouldn’t have been able to go. But Sam was not alone now. It wasn’t just the two of them anymore.  
He breathed in Sam’s scent, committing it to memory. He burned that loving, wonderful face onto his eyes. Frodo would never forget his dearest friend.   
“Why must you go where I can’t follow, Frodo?” The tears flowed quickly from his eyes.  
Frodo couldn’t hold back his own anymore, they came just as freely as his companions. Merry and Pippin stood in the back holding each other, dabbing at their faces.   
Frodo’s heart ached. He wanted to stay but knew it was his time to go. Bilbo called his name.

Sam finally completely broke, his whole body shuddered as he cried out. He watched Frodo walk onto the ship. His friend was leaving forever and there was nothing he could do. The gangplank was being lifted onto the ship; the vessel was pulling away. He never noticed the two pairs of arms reaching around his shoulders. Merry and Pippin comforting him, and each other.   
They continued to watch as the ship drifted into the sun, tiny figures waving. When it could no longer be seen Merry and Pippin returned to their horses and waited. Sam stayed on the shore longer. He only turned away when the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon and his tears had stopped. The full moon illuminated them all.  
The journey home was travelled in relative silence. A mournful feeling hung on them like the heaviest cloak they had ever had the misfortune to wear. 

Merry and Pippin parted ways with Sam at the turn to Buckland. They dropped from their horses, hugged, and waved.  
“You will always be welcome in our home. Both of you,” Sam said sorrowfully.  
“And you to us, Sam.”  
Sam climbed back onto Bill and trudged back to the stables below Bag End. He picked up his pack, returned through the familiar garden, and in through the big, green door. Rosie greeted him with a cheery smile, that never quite reached her eyes. She peppered his face with kisses, took his pack, led him to his chair and placed their daughter in his lap.  
Elanor smiled up at him, Sam was home, but it would never feel the same again. Not without Frodo.


End file.
